


Gift Request

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: 10 Kisses [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Infatuation, M/M, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Possessive Anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: “Master. Obi-Wan. I know what I want for my birthday.”





	Gift Request

**Author's Note:**

> Another birthday kiss. Don't worry, it's not a theme. Part of the 10 Kisses series. Originally written and posted at my [Tumblr](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com).

* * *

It's Anakin's 19th birthday. A transitional year to be sure. The final year of adolescence before the shift to adulthood. For many padawans, the beginning of the path to their Trials.

Obi-Wan remembers his 19th birthday. He and Master Qui-Gon had actually been in the Temple and so were a number of his friends, who took it upon themselves to ensure he thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

But Anakin… He has no close friendships that Obi-Wan knows of. No group padawans he meets up with after classes or to celebrate the week’s end. Of the few padawans Anakin has spent time with, Obi-Wan only knows of Tru Veld, who is off planet with his master.

Days ago, he’d asked Anakin if there were anything he wanted for his birthday and the boy had shrugged.

And today, he seems content to spend his time in the mechanic shop, tinkering on the speeder he’s rebuilding and making some upgrades to Artoo’s equipment.

Obi-Wan takes it upon himself to at least make one of Anakin’s favorite meals, begging a few ingredients from the kitchen to put together a starblossom tart that filled their rooms with a distinct and delicate sweet scent that has Anakin, when he returns, cocking his head to the side and smiling when he recognizes it.

Obi-Wan pours them both a glass of Toniray. Anakin won’t be of legal drinking age on Coruscant until next year, but Obi-Wan had his first _official_ glass of wine with his master at the same age. “Happy Birthday, Anakin.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Conversation is mostly set aside in favor of eating, though they talk about their upcoming mission, Anakin’s coursework (“All caught up, Master.”) and Artoo’s newest upgrade.

“Rocket boosters?” Obi-Wan asks.

“You never know when a flying droid will come in handy.”

“As you say.”

It’s as Obi-Wan’s finishing up the dishes and Anakin’s preparing tea for him that Anakin speaks.

“Master. Obi-Wan. I know what I want for my birthday.”

“And what’s that?” Obi-Wan sets the last dish aside and turns, finding Anakin directly behind him. He takes a step back. The boy is taller than him, has been for the last year, and Obi-Wan suspects there might be one more growth spurt right around the corner, but he’s not thinking about that right now as Anakin steps closer, gait strangely predatory. Obi-Wan has to stop himself from taking another step back and into the wall.

“Just this.”

Obi-Wan has an inkling of what the boy’s going to do, right before he does it. His hands frame Obi-Wan’s face, one sliding back into his hair, catching and holding the back of his head with a finesse that surprises him, the other cupping his jaw. Then Anakin’s mouth is on his and the kiss is…good. A little rushed, a little nerve-filled, but adept, Anakin’s tongue flicking across his lips and sliding into his mouth when he can’t stop his gasp, stroking against his own tongue, tickling over the sensitive inside of his lower lip.

Obi-Wan jerks as he’s pushed into the wall, as the hand that had been cupping his face slides to the small of his back and Anakin’s body presses into his, the firmness of an erection against his hip. And that’s when he breaks the kiss, side steps Anakin’s grip.

“Anakin.” He makes his tone soft. “This is very flattering but also very inappropriate. It’s certainly not uncommon for padawans to develop certain feelings for their masters—“

“It’s not a phase,” Anakin says, mouth turning down, eyes narrowing.

Obi-Wan nods, unwilling to argue the point. “All right. It’s still not appropriate. Any other relationship between padawan and master confuses the initial one and—”

“And when I’m a knight?” Anakin asks and Obi-Wan is very familiar with the set of his mouth, the accompanying tone that suggests this isn’t a subject he’s going to drop. And perhaps it’s selfish or perhaps Obi-Wan doesn’t want a fight to mar an otherwise nice evening, so he cedes ground.

“Then,” Obi-Wan says, “we can talk about it. But don’t worry about it until then. Please. The time will, at least, give you a chance to explore. You may just find someone more interesting to you than your old master.”

“You’re not old,” Anakin says immediately. “And you’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful.” This last is almost whispered as Anakin turns and leaves the kitchenette, leaves their rooms.

Months later, when they’re tasked with seeing to the safety of Senator Amidala, Obi-Wan watches Anakin’s eyes light up when he sees her, watches the nervous dance his padawan does, the posturing and heroic assurances and while he’s thankful someone else has caught Anakin’s attention—though he does have to remind the boy of their duties as Jedi—there’s the smallest part of him that aches, just a little, at how quickly his place of affection has been given to someone else.


End file.
